Winter's Heart
by Senka Hitomi
Summary: It's the first day of spring, but even old wounds left from the heart of winter can't be healed by the changing seasons. One-sided Ran/Gin one-shot.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach._

* * *

It was strange that a day so full of life could be so very quiet. With the first day of spring came a profusion of brilliance, scarlet and gold and soft pink and vivid green that was almost, but not quite, the color of his eyes.

She viewed it as a garish funeral procession: a bright and beautiful celebration of the life, yet still overshadowed by the interminable loss that could not be named. The winter's death was behind them, but patches of brown remained amid the new growth.

She wondered if she was one of those patches. Could anything ever grow again where ice had blighted the ground?

Her hand stopped moving where it hovered above the desk, pen loose in its grip. A wind had swept its way through the courtyard, rustling the tree branches and shaking a few buds loose from their stems. A tiny gust rattled the window, sending a chill up her arm.

There was no denying that winter still made its mark, even on the first day of a new season.

She shook her head, forced to tear her eyes away from the window.

_Birds with clipped wings shouldn't be allowed to see the outside_, she thought. _Shouldn't be shown signs of hope._

The only other person in the room cleared their throat, loud enough that there was no mistaking that it was meant to get her attention.

"Taichō? Did you need something?"

The young captain of Squad 10* looked up at his lieutenant as though he had just noticed her presence in the office for the first time.

"Hmm? Oh, no…" His eyebrows furrowed together in a look of consternation and he fiddled with the pen in his hand, twisting it back and forth through his fingers a few times before resting it back on the paper in front of him. "Nothing. You can go back to work."

Normally she would have questioned further, or at the very least given him a skeptical look, but she found herself simply unable to summon the curiosity. If the captain truly had something on his mind and it was important enough, he would talk about it.

If not, was it really any of her business?

The only noise in the office for the next few minutes was the rustling of papers passing over one another and the scratching of pens over the tops of desks.

It took all of her concentration just to focus on the paperwork, but she did it, not giving in to the temptation of the window to her right nor the bottle hidden away in a lower desk drawer to her left.

There would be time for that later, but not now.

She was distracted again as the sound of a pen being dropped on a desk hit her ears, closely followed by the scraping of a chair again the floor. The sound of footsteps slowly moved toward her, but she refused to look up until he was right in front of the desk.

"Matsumoto."

"Yes, taichō?"

"Matsumoto, look at me."

She set down her pen, growing more annoyed by the minute. She met his gaze; his cold eyes shone with a wisdom that was a contradiction to his young features, but she refused to back down.

"What is it, taichō?"

"What are you doing?" For once, the prodigy actually looked genuinely confused. Even being in the most somber of moods couldn't keep a wry grin from lighting up her face for a moment.

"Paperwork. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Paperwork." He answered shortly. "That's why I'm worried."

"Worried, sir?" She looked down at the next report, signing off on the bottom with a quick scribble. "Why would you be worried? Isn't this what you're always trying to get me to do?"

"_Yes_, Matsumoto." He spoke through gritted teeth and, even not looking at him, she could tell his annoyance was reaching its peak. She shouldn't have been surprised when the pen was suddenly snatched out of her hand, but she was anyway.

_Reflexes must be slowing._

"Matsumoto!"

"What, sir?"

The captain sighed, placing the pen back on her desk.

"Go home, Matsumoto."

"Taichō?" She truly wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.

"Something is obviously wrong. I know I really shouldn't pass up the opportunity to get you to actually do your job, but you've been quieter today than you have the entire time I've known you. If you'd wanted to tell me why, you would have already done so, and being here in this office probably isn't helping matters. So go home. Get some rest. Come back later if you really want to, but I'm not going to fault you if I don't see you until tomorrow morning."

She looked down, laughing a little. _It's that obvious, huh?_

That was what she thought at least. But she said:

"Thank you, taichō."

He said nothing else, didn't even nod, just moved back to his desk and sat down.

Matsumoto stood, leaving the pen where the captain had dropped it on the desk and the bottle in its drawer.

* * *

Sunlight only filtered in through the slit where the curtains didn't meet, throwing most of the room into shadow with the occasional glimmer of brightness to break it.

Matsumoto lay outstretched on the bed, the rare beams of sunlight catching on her splayed out golden curls and flashing across her vision.

Not that it mattered —there was no one else here— but at least it gave her an excuse for why her eyes were watering.

_Watering… ha. So that's what they call it nowadays?_

She swiped a hand across her cheeks. Watering, crying… it didn't matter. Neither one would bring him back.

Not for the first time, she wondered… why today? Why was the advent of spring such a harsh reminder of his absence?

She had been doing so well. Back to her normal self, as much as that was possible. So much of what she called her "self" was tied to her life with him. But somehow she had achieved a sense of normalcy nonetheless, gone back to drinking with Kira, shirking paperwork and being her normal flirtatious, cheerful self.

Yet the season that was supposed to bring new beginnings had brought her nothing but pain; every new life seemed to reaffirm all the more strongly that one had been extinguished… and one still existed in limbo.

So much of it was regret. She had always depended on him, always gone to him for help… she wondered how much of it had truly been in her head.

Had he ever needed her? She liked to think so.

She turned over, away from the sun, and stared into the semi-darkness.

Her yearning was so strong it was practically tangible, and the things she yearned for were threatening to destroy her. How could emotion take over a person this way?

_Because I've allowed it to consume me by hiding._

If only she could see him one last time. To tell him everything she had ever kept from him… not that it had been much. He had kept far more from her, it seemed.

But the most important things –the things she would regret until the day she died– had never been said.

_Did he die knowing I loved him?_

She hoped. She hoped so strongly that it twisted it her insides and left her breathless.

_Even if he had, he would never know the extent._

If she had just been given… no, **taken** the opportunity to tell him. Taken one chance to kiss him, to give her soul and whole self to him… to die for him.

Oh, how she wished she could have died for him, instead of the other way around.

The sobs came silently, because she didn't have the strength to cry aloud. She stopped the thoughts, just let the emotion carry her until the tears subsided and the exhaustion from too many drunken sleepless nights took over. The warmth of the sun and the strain of the day combined to lull her into a half-sleep.

Even in dreams, there was so little escape… but at least there, he lived.

Deep in the realm of dreams, it was the heart of winter and she was young. It was her birthday.

_The day I was reborn, really. The day the light came into my life. Does that mean I'm dead now?_

She recognized it for what it was; it was only in her dreams that he held her.

But in dreams, there was warmth in the heart of winter.

In dreams, there was no chill to be found in the promise of spring.

* * *

_A/N: I've been wanting to write a Ran/Gin fic for a long time, but I haven't been able to find the words to do it. There's just so much to be said about their relationship, and so little room for error. I hope I did it some justice. For now, this is a one-shot, but I might consider continuing it if I get an inspiration. As it stands, read and -hopefully- enjoy. Review, if the inclination strikes you and you would be so kind._

_- Senka Hitomi_

_*Correction made 12/22 – I appeared to have completely messed up the squad number in the original draft, but it's now fixed. Thanks to Lady Callista for notifying me!_


End file.
